


Postcards and Bad Decisions

by Costumebleh



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Other, drop in a prompt or request if you have an idea, most likely to mainly consist of fluff, pairings will be added as I go, this is a bunch of romantic/platonic one-shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2018-05-28 20:46:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 19,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6344533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Costumebleh/pseuds/Costumebleh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A large bunch of prompts and requests that I decided to write out, will cover multiple pairings of both the platonic and romantic sort. Includes any and all pairings that I can manage to figure out how to put into words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bar time (Undyne/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Undyne/Reader to the prompt: "There’s a person who won’t stop bugging me will you pretend to be my partner so that they’ll fuck off?"

Shit oh god fucking damnit.

Can’t this guy take a fucking hint?

You’ve even stopped nodding politely at him, simply staring into your beer and letting the fucking leech talk about oh-god-who-the-fuck-cares. Ok, giving this guy any sort of attention was the worst decision, please let you atone for this tiny mistake, but just make a thunderbolt hit him before you have to listen to another nobody-cares brag of something you had zero interest in.

Before another round of brainless facts about him, that you had no fucking interest in assaults your ears, you quickly excused yourself and almost ran to the bathroom.

Standing in front of the sink, you manage to plan six different escape-scenarios. Six, whereas four of them involves the guy being knocked out one way or the other, though none are approved because that shit’s illegal and you didn’t feel like explaining to the cops that the simple reason why you’d uppercutted the guy, was that he just couldn’t take a fucking hint.

That is when another person enters the bathroom. Holy shit yes, they’re attractive. Plan seven suddenly pops into your mind. It’s a monster, standing a little taller than you and damn, just your type, with boobs and ripped muscles.

But how the fuck do you explain; that you want them to act as your date to scare a creep off?

Well maybe starting a conversation with them would be a good idea. You look to the side as she (ok, this was the ladies room so you hoped that they were going by female pronouns, because holy shit your hormones are already going crazy) occupies the sink beside yours.

Alright, better now than ever. “So, do you have a date tonight?” mother-fucking smooth. You don’t like involving people if they are already taken, that shit ain’t your game.

She shoots you a look with her one eye, holy kaboozle, that makes your legs a little weak as a sly grin spreads over her lips. You notice some _very_ sharp teeth peeking out and you felt like this might not go according to plan. “Depends on who’s asking.”

Suddenly, you feel most of your confidence wane as you’re not sure if she would actually collaborate with this, she certainly felt like the type that might laugh at your situation. “Uhm- Well…” ah fuck it, what more can she do than laugh at your misery? “I need to shoo a creep off, and…” You shrug “You’re honestly my type, so this is the only plan I can come up with, that doesn’t include using chloroform on the guy or something like that.”

A rough barking laugh rings through the bathroom, and you can feel the embarrassment stab. Ok, maybe not the best solution. “Of course I’ll help ya out! An’ I must say that you’re not too bad either.” What holy what? Is she agreeing? “I’ve been thinking about something similar since I entered the bar and saw how big of a twat that creep was being.” Fuck yes, she _is_.

You breathe a sigh of relief, “Do you have a plan? Because that fucking ass is not good at taking any sort of hint.”

She just smiles, baring a that long row of sharpened bone in a smug expression. “Just follow my lead.”

Which you do, because damn, that tone of voice gives you the best goosebumps as you follow her out of the bathroom. The very moment you enter the guy’s field of vision, an unexpectedly dry and warm hand grasps onto yours. You note that the scales are kind of rough against your palm.

The monster leads you right back to where you sat previously, sinking down onto the seat opposite where the creep had placed his high-thinking ass. Whereas you immediately feel her squeeze your hand reassuringly, she also starts to speak like the creep isn’t even there. “Why were you alone back here sweet? You know that I would cancel any lessons if you’re feeling lonely.” Her hand is resting on top of yours on the bar, clearly displaying how she’s running her thumb over the back of your hand.

Though your daydream-like atmosphere whereas your eyes stay interlocked with hers, you get the general feeling that this might be a little more than a charade and that it had a hint of being genuine. She’s actually fucking flirting with you, holy fuck.

Whereas the fucking creep just has to go and break in between the flirty atmosphere, a greasy hand clasping down on your shoulder and it takes all you have not to shoot up an elbow into his nose. A bloody miracle that you manage to fight the urge. Maybe it was the monster’s hand still resting on top of yours that kept you somewhat grounded.

However, it becomes seriously close to unbearable when he leans over to talk over your shoulder at your ‘partner’.

His voice slurs, all the gods above, you really want to hand out some whoopass. “wha’ are ya doin’ yu ‘ucking freak? The girl all up for ‘he taking, so we dun want no weirdos feelin’ her up.” He apparently thinks that anybody would be agreeing with him, what a fucking fool.

But your slowly-sizzling anger is cut short as the monster proceeds to mother-fucking _sneer_ at the fool. Dragging you up from the chair, you escape the stench of cheap beer and un-washed clothes to feel her press her hands against your nape and lower back.

Then there’s some un-expectedly soft lips pressed against yours, only permitting you a short moment to register it before there’s sharp teeth gently nibbling at your bottom lip. Approving the silent request, you slightly part your lips and your breath mingles, the slight taste of the sea on her tongue. Your hands have reached around to press against her hips, fingers burying into the muscles around her thighs and only a short distance from grasping her ass. You can feel a smirk form on her lips and when you break away, you can only stare astonishedly at her.

The smile still lingers on her features as she only parts a small distance from you, her voice is hushed, obviously trying to keep the guy from listening in. “Hey, the name’s Undyne by the way.”

What you hadn’t noticed, was the murderous glare she had been shooting at the leech as she’d been lip-locking with you and that she’s actually been looking at you most of the evening over the rim of her pint.

Though a while later, you did manage to needle it out of her which only earned her a sloppy kiss on the cheek.


	2. Flip time (Sans/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans/Reader to the prompt: I decided to flip a coin about every decision in my life for a week and that’s how we ended up on a date

So, most of your friends always told you to try to push some boundaries. To make a change in your routine.

To which your bestie proposed to try and make it a challenge. However, since you were pretty dang shoddy at figuring out challenges, you just went with the first thing that came to mind. Coin-toss. Here, your friend started to add a little more meat onto exactly what the challenge would include, especially that every single choice you would have to make must be made with two entirely opposite routes.

Like one time in the beginning, you had to decide what to make for dinner, to which you had the choice of either mixing everything you currently had in your pantries and fridge or just order takeout. To say that it was an interesting experience would have been an understatement, when you ended up having soup with chocolate mixed in.

That very same challenge was also the reason why you now sat across from Sans, having accepted his joke about going on a date. The coin had been flipped to you either taking it seriously, or joking further along. It ended up with you going the more serious route.

It had actually been quite a relaxing and casual date, you’d both just gone to the movies and then to a small cozy restaurant, where you now sat and lightly chatted. Maybe this hadn’t been that bad of a challenge. Even when you later explained the circumstances, he just laughed it off and told you that it made a lot of other stuff you’d done during the week make sense.

So even when you felt him press a pseudo-kiss to your cheek as he bid you goodnight, you stopped him before he exited the door, flipping a coin into the air.

You then proceeded to ignore which side it landed on, just pulling him in for a more genuine kiss as the metal clattered to the floor.


	3. Coffee time (Gaster/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaster/Reader based on the prompt: "I’m worried about your coffee dependency"

He always enters at random times, but always at least three or four times a day. His orders are always bordering or stronger than your tastebuds-killing expresso triple-shots, which makes you cringe from pity every single time since those were mostly only taken by people with extreme stressful careers or a severe lack of sleep. For this guy though, you already guessed that it must be a combination of both.

Oh, did you mention that he’s a monster?

Well he is. Actually quite an intimidating kind if you go for first impressions, however if you decided to not run away screaming at the first look, then you’d find out that Gaster was actually about as gentle as a person could possibly be.

But since you were often the one working at very irregular intervals, with your co-workers being the lazy or just plain up judging sort, you were seated with serving him most of the time. Luckily, you weren’t a shop like starbucks or anything of that sort, but instead a must-sit-when-finishing-the-order sort of place. So you had a chance of actually sitting down and chatting with the customers when you were on break.

Which lead to you learning a whole lot about your caffeine-addicted crush. Well sorta-crush. You weren’t one hundred percent sure if it was just worry that you felt, or a more genuine kind of supportive feeling. In either case, you felt like you might want to suggest the large monster that maybe drowning his fatigue in coffee perhaps wasn’t the wisest choice.

So one day, about three months after you figured that Gaster had a serious addiction, you sat down across from him, leaving your lazy co-worker to take care of the last rush remaining.

Gaster shoots you a curious look over the rim of his cup, undoubtedly noticing the torturous situation you’ve left your apparent companion in. Ignoring it, you just sit down as relaxed as one could be, with your chin propped up onto your palm to shoot him a lazy grin. Your other hand raised up to point at his still lifted cup as you spoke.

“You have a serious coffee dependency dude. That stuff just ain’t healthy.”

An unhappy frown appears on Gaster’s face, something about what you said must’ve hit a familiar topic that your apparent crush really dislikes. Nevertheless, you decide to ignore his clear signs that told you that he really didn’t want to talk about this with the person that has only talked to him over the odd timing between his visits and your breaks.

When he opens his mouth to protest, you just wave him off, continuing your plan. “You know that there exists other ways to manage a problematic sleeping-schedule, right? Like if you have insomnia or something the like, you’ll go numb to the coffee eventually.”

You hear the clear ‘clink’ of his cup hitting the surface a little harder than intended, whoo~ struck a chord there eh? “I doubt that you manager would be happy, with you trying to basically tell your customers not to buy anymore from your inventory. I too, would prefer it if you didn’t try to meddle as many other of my acquaintances have done in the past, without luck if I might add.”

Shooting him another sleazy smile, you reach over to nab the cup from his fingers, swirling the thick liquid around, you can almost taste the tongue-murdering mixture, just from the fumes rising from the black soup. “Well, I doubt that your friends have said much more than just ‘try to stop drinking it for a while’ or something like that. What I’m thinking, is a little thing that I call revised schedule that permits your body to rest a little more each day, which ultimately should help you become a little less dependent on this.” You place back the cup in front of him as you rise to leave, since it technically wasn’t your breaktime just yet.

However, before you manage to take more than a few steps away from the table, Gaster appears by your side. He looks quite flustered. “Could you elaborate that to me, perhaps over text?” and before you notice it, you’ve handed him your phone number.

From then on, you both start to write each other with an increased frequency, in the beginning just about your ideas with him getting some more rest, but who knows, maybe the worry spanning in your thoughts about him might actually be more.


	4. Sleep time (Grillby/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby/Reader based on the prompt: “I’m going to need you to put on some underwear before you say anything else.“

It’s hard, it’s really fucking hard to keep your gaze lifted.

Do not waver. You can do it.

Oh hoollly fuck you looked down.

His dick is huge.

Okay, eyes up. Do _not_ do that again.

You’re standing in your doorframe of your room, one of the other residents in your shared apartment in front. He is naked. He apparently sleeps without anything on.

Well it’s not like a guy made of fire would need to keep himself warm, but you do ponder if he perhaps hadn’t thought it through when he knocked on your door. At 3 in the morning. Naked.

Eyes drop.

 _Stop it_!

Hoh-hah holy shit that is a penis made of fire.

Oh shit he said something.

Your eyes snap back up to meet his, making a not-really-paying-attention-sound you try to dodge the obvious oddity in this situation. “Mhmmmm?” your shoulder is propped up against the frame, clearly showing how fucking exhausted you were, and that if anything you did was weird, it was the exhaustion talking. Or that was what you hoped you were signaling.

Grillby is fidgeting. Apparently not sure as to why you were so unfocused. “I wished to know if you had some space on your floor, because Undyne has apparently brought Alphys back…” He added something at the end, but your tired mind couldn’t strain enough to hear it.

“What was that?” You’ve become rather good at keeping your eyes locked on his face.

“…They’re having intercourse in her room and the walls are very thin...”

Ah.

That explains a whole lot.

You wouldn’t want to sleep with those sounds coming from the other room either. A small laugh escapes you. This whole situation was fucking weird. Alright, taking it from the bottom up. Literally. “Yeah sure, I think I have a mattress somewhere, just do me one favor before you say anything else?” He cocks his head at this and your attention wavers just the slightest bit.

A tired grin spreads across your lips. “Put on some underwear. Please.”

Oh god, the burn on your ceiling was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just gotta remark, that these will probably slow down a lot after this, since I usually don't have the time to finish this much. So enjoy it while you can! ;3c


	5. Party time (Nastablook/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Napstablook/Reader based on the prompt: "My friend dragged me to this party and I just saw my ex quick make out with me"

Even through your fuzzed mind, you can distinctively register the voice of somebody that you certainly did not want to see every again. You were at a mixed frat-party, having been forcibly dragged by your best friend who’d in turn abandoned you within minutes.

However, right now you just cursed up a storm as all you could think about was that any other indication of his presence would send your mind into pure code red.

Oh fuck, you saw a small glimpse of his form and it almost made you bolt. Nevertheless, you straightened, telling yourself that he had no longer any influence over your life. Even if your pulse was going way too fast and both the alcohol and the fear was making everything suddenly seem a little too much.

Nope, he was getting closer. You needed an outlet, something or someone to distract yourself with before he found you, alone at a party, where he would eminently laugh at you for being by your lonesome.

Please let there be somebody else that wasn’t already taken.

There! A glimpse of a timid character, standing alone with a beer in their hand.

You slowly make your way over to the wall, gingerly joining the adorable-looking robot that had been standing by themselves at the sidelines. You first really noticed that it had been a monster when you’d gotten closer, the blonde long hair having hidden most of their features. They still looked cute though.

Good luck too, because you heard an intoxicated yell of your name from a voice you desperately did not want to encounter.

A bit frantic, you moved over to the cute robot, placing one hand on their shoulder. They gave you a mix of a surprised and a scared look when you touched them, it actually made you feel a little guilty that you wouldn’t have time to ask for permission for what you were just about to do.  

Leaning over, you hurriedly placed your lips on top of theirs. Apparently, the skin around the face was synthetic and very soft, because what you felt was certainly not uncomfortable or unnatural in any way.

A tug on their shoulder made them turn around, creating a stable barrier between you and the rest of the room. When you shortly broke away from them, your eyes met with a pair of turquoise orbs staring shockedly at you. Hoping that your eyes conveyed your apology, you leaned back forwards for another kiss, whereas you felt them hesitantly return, their shaking hands pressing against your lower back.

While it was a nice distraction and an efficient way of hiding yourself, you didn’t dare actually press it further and just kept it at soft pecks as you listened intensely for the hint of your ex having exited the perimeter.

Finally breaking away fully, you were breathing heavily and all but pressed flushed up against your unexpected companion. Their arms were still around your waist as they just still stared astonishedly at you.

You smile apologetically, “Sorry.” Though you didn’t move to leave.

And to your utter surprise. Neither did they.


	6. Rain time (Grillby/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby/Reader based on the prompt: “This horrible umbrella won’t extend! Oh shit I just hit you in the crotch! I’m so sorry!”

Rain is cascading down, eagerly reminding you how horrible a decision it was to go out today. But you needed to get those groceries from the store if you didn’t want to live the next two days off from the few cookies and other snacks hiding in your pantries.

Nevertheless, you might’ve actually chosen to do just that, if you knew your cheap piece-of-rusty-shit umbrella would just straight up die on you, just as you needed to exit the store out into the soaking shower that people called a natural phenomenon. To hell with that, the amount of water being deposited by the sky could simply not be natural.

Well in either case, you needed to figure out how to fix your usually dependable umbrella.

Kneeling, you positioned yourself over the precarious task of trying to fiddle with the spring in the mechanism that would open the waterproof device. So to say that you were occupied would have been an understatement, which could explain that when somebody suddenly stood in front of you, you startled.

Apparently, the sudden movement made it possible for your finger to do that final tweak, resulting in the dumb thing finally extending.

Right into somebody’s crotch.

You didn’t get a lot of time to react as the person instantly keeled over in front of you, which revealed to be a monster made of fire, just as he crouched down to your eye-level.

In apparent pain, you quickly started sputtering out apologies as you supported his shoulders. “Oh shit, I’m so, so sorry!” you couldn’t read much of his expression, since he was made of fire and the large frames on his face hid any indication of eyes that might’ve hinted towards just how fucked you were.

To your side you heard worried mutters from various patrons, and oddly a loud barking laugh ringing through the air. Giving the source of the voice a short look, you spotted a skeleton standing on the sidelines of your little skit.

Still laughing, the skeleton addressed the fire in front of you. “You gotta admit Grillby. You didn’t expect them to hit on you before you even managed to say a word.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing Sans


	7. Late time (Sans/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans/Reader based on the prompt: "Why exactly do you need chloroform at 2AM?"

It’s a little hard to keep your eyes open, sitting in a drowsy little 24/7 store by a gas-station at two in the morning with little more than willpower to keep your eyelids from intertwining.

You knew that you shouldn’t have accepted the favor from your co-worker. But they’d worked the puppy-eyes on you and you already tended to be a meek pushover, so of course you’d said yes.

Nevertheless, when you’d been at a fourteen-hour shift, you suddenly began to very much question your priorities.

Resting your head onto the desk, you eyed your empty cup of chocolate standing idly and cold without you really having any real need for sugar, but more something to do instead of just staring into the void that is your everyday work-space.

Gods you really hated your weak-willed self. You were never-ever going to give in to another pathetic plea from your younger acquaintance. A half-hearted sigh escaped you, as you straightened; stretching as you mentally prepared yourself for another couple hours of pure boredom. Though when you looked forward across the desk again, you were faced with a person standing there.

Well sorta. It was a skeleton.

Of course he’s a customer all the same, but he’s not holding any wares so you can guess that there are only two possibilities as to what he was doing; either asking for help, or robbing you. Somewhat, you hoped for the last since you would get an excuse to get away from the dull place.

“Hey sorry kid, you willing to give this old bag of bones a hand?” so much for that hope.

You moved to stand up, walking over to the other side of the seat, “Yeah sure, what are you looking for?”

“Heh, well…” You see some sweat bead onto his head, but you’re too tired to wonder about how such physics works with a skeleton. “I hoped you might have some clean chloroform?”

“Uh.” What? You shoot him a raised eyebrow and a doubting look, whereas you saw more sweat bead onto his forehead and his eyes darken a little. “What do you need chloroform for,” you looked at the watch on the wall. “At 2 am?” had the digits really not moved at all?

“Well…” he shrugged, reaching around to scratch the back of his skull. “You sure you wanna know the tale? Or will you call the cops on me if I don’t? spit”

You just rolled your eyes in response. “Not really, but I might be slightly worried if I’m assisting you in kidnapping or something like.” You vaguely waved your hand in the air. “Just don’t want to end up in prison for a thing I haven’t done ya know?” gods, it really was way too late for you to be able to hold a sentient conversation.

“Haha yeah kid, I bet. No worries.” The skeleton looked a little more relieved. “It’s more to keep some assholes that tried to attack my brother out for a little longer, just until we can dump them onto the authorities doorstep.”

You nodded once, understanding. “Yeah ok, makes sense I guess…? Oh god I’m just too tired to think right now so I’ll just show you the stuff and go back to spend the remaining time staring like a dead fish until the next shift comes.”

“Thanks bud. Really not trying to pull anything _fishy_ here, so it’s good to know that I won’t end on the side of the bars that I wanted the pricks to be.”

“Yeah yeah. Just follow me sir.” You then proceeded to guide him over to the small section filled with various cleaning-materials and pointed to the chloroform. Tottering over back to your post, you scanned in his purchase with the traditional ‘you want the bill- no ok have a nice day sir’ and let him go his merry way.

When he left, there were no other customers and you just proceeded to stare into the nothingness, fighting back any fatigue that you could feel drag onto your eyelids, until the next person finally arrived around 4. Albeit almost half an hour later than scheduled.

Too exhausted to really care, you pulled on your jacket and started the dreaded track home. Only to be met with the skeleton outside of the entrance. He said that you’d mentioned something about getting off around this time – though you couldn’t really recall if you had or not – and felt like he wanted to check up and see if you could even stand up by the time you were off.

You gave a weak laugh at that and told him not to worry, and that you’d made it home much more exhausted before, to which he proposed to walk you home. Thinking about it for a minute, you accepted.

You didn’t think that you had just met one of your future best friends.

Though neither of you really ended up mentioning the incident that lead to your odd companionship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually thought about going all dark and stuff with this one, but then I was all like nah cuz I can't figure out how to not write fluff :v


	8. Heart-to-heart time (Grillby/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby/Reader, not really based on a prompt but more of a cute idea that I thought of.

A hand is gently pressed against your neck.

“…What is the source of that pulse?”

“Pulse?” you ask, puzzled.

“The movement under your skin here” He said, still keeping his palm over your neck.

Pulse? You couldn’t phantom what he meant, there shouldn’t be anything irregular going on with your body. But then it occurred to you that there were some bodily functions that Grillby might not be aware of. “You mean my heartbeat?”

“…Heartbeat?” so he didn’t know.

Moving your hand up to cover his, you closed your eyes and leaned closer. His hand twitched slightly against your skin when you pressed your forehead against his. “Yeah. A heartbeat. It proves that I’m alive and nothing is wrong.”

Grillby quiets for a moment, probably processing the information. You were sitting on the couch, sorta half-cuddling while watching the news, when he’d started inquiring to the topic you were now explaining.

“Does it hurt?” while the question was rather odd, you didn’t want to dismiss his clear want to assure that nothing he did was harmful to you.

“No.” your tone was quiet, bordering to a whisper. “It’s just a bodily function.”

It seemed like his curiosity had peaked when you’d started explaining. “Is it like a soul?”

Unsure of the relation between the workings of your body and the theoretical manifestation of your psyche, you tried to explain. “I’m… not sure how a soul works.” Lifting his hand from your neck, you moved down to place it on your chest. “but I have a heart, it makes sure that blood flows through my body and I stay alive.” Feeling Grillby’s posture stiffen when you gingerly pressed his palm flat against your chest, you continued. “You can feel it here… a small beat.”

Though he still seemed a little nervous about actually touching you, he didn’t remove his hand. Just sitting here, you watched as his flames flickered in marvel when he sensed the slight movement under the fabric.

“…It’s so light, barely there.”

“You can hear it a little better, but yeah.” that information seemingly spurred something in him. Since he suddenly separated his forehead from yours and moved to lay you down on the couch. A silent question for approval sparked from his posture and in response you just gave a serene smile and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. You knew what he wanted to try.

And sure enough. Once you laid down onto your back on the couch, he pressed the side of his head to your chest, his arms wrapped around your back.

After a few minutes of silence, he spoke, his voice calm and filled with a deep warmth. “It’s beautiful, reassures me in a way that I cannot describe.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at that, he seemed to enthralled by something that you’d never really thought much of. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

To this, he just raised his gaze up to meet your eyes. “Anything about you is precious.”

When he then continued to lift himself up to meet your lips, you didn’t get a single moment to retort.

Ah well. Maybe you didn’t mind it that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cute stuff is like my lifeblood


	9. Beer time (Mettaton/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mettaon/Reader based on the prompt: “we both grabbed for the last bottle of the good beer and i’m not saying we’re going to fight for it but we are”

Your hands touch, and no, not in a romantic sense. This is pure instinct, fueled by your seething need not to have to drink the cat-piss that everyone else is eagerly downing at this party.

Though your hand is the one that first grasped onto the bottle, a much larger palm quickly covered it, apparently also seeking out the more appealing substance within. Irritation and a slight anger starts bubbling up under your skin at the thought that somebody else might try to seize the precious from you.

Looking up, your eyes lock with the most intense pink you’ve ever laid your sight on. It’s Mettaton, the pure diva of your friendgroup and dressed up in some outfit just as flamboyant as his personality.

No fucking way that he’s getting the beer before you.

It looks like it is the last can, and you’ll fight over it in your half-sober state if you have to. This isn’t something you’ll give up willingly.

Your gaze is still interlocked with his, not wavering in any way because damn, this is yours and he won’t have a fucking chance in hell to steal it from you.

In one quick motion, you look down onto your trapped hand and try to pry your hand away from his, with little success. A sly smile spreads over his lips and you can just sense the coy-ness emit from him as he probably made the same revelation as you. That neither of you could get to the can without the other letting go first. “Well Darling, I can do this all night.”

You shoot him a glare, an idea striking your mind.

The strike coming in a literal sense, as you swiftly whap your other hand onto his arm, efficiently startling him enough for you to wrestle the can out from his grasp.

But you don’t manage to escape. Because the very moment that you turn tail, his arm is wound around your middle. Damn. You forgot that he could do that. Stupid extendable arms.

As you’re held a small distance above the ground, you hear Mettaton chuckle by your ear. “Nice try Darling, but I think I won this little competition.”

You’re clutching the can to your chest. Stubbornly keeping it away from him as your drunken pride didn’t want to relent just yet, there must be something you can do to make him release you. You hiss between your teeth, “Over my dead body.”

Oh hoh. He just seems amused by this and you can feel his grip tighten around your frame, not yet strong enough to hurt, but certainly plenty to pacify you.

“It’s on sweetheart.”

The night did end on a fun note, that’s for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun times!
> 
> ALSO ON ANOTHER NOTE, THERE HAS BEEN MADE ADORABLE AND HILARIOUS FANART OF CHAPTER 6 STARRING OUR POOR GRILLBY [HERE](http://imgur.com/X1bUvLd)


	10. Demon time (Gaster/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaster/Reader based on the prompt: "That is the tenth demon summoning this week holy shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lil' note that I've added the pairing to the chapter titles so ppl can skip or only read the chapters with specific pairings B)

“So you’re telling me, it’s just an accident that you have been summoned exactly ten times this week?”

“Most certainly.”

“It’s Thursday. You’re saying that it’s a coincidence that it’s only been you, out of all the damned demons in the underworld. That has been summoned ten. Fucking. Times. Within four days?”

“Indeed.”

Lowering the hand, you’d used to point accusedly at the demon, you let out an exasperated sigh. The form towering above you, stood passively within the summoning circle and displayed no guilt whatsoever.

Damned demons.

“Gaster.”

“Yes?”

You feel like groaning into your hands, the stubbornness of this guy brought you an account of several nights without any rest since you had to chase the demon-summoning fools down. Each time placed within some region ridiculously far away from where he’d been summoned previously.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I sure hope not. Exorcists don’t come here.” Priorities are backwards bucko.

“You’re not really helping. I don’t think that I’ve slept more than a few hours this week, and it’s all your fault. How do you even convince them to summon you?”

“A pure coincidence I can assure you.”

“Right.” You raise a skeptical eyebrow at him. Nevertheless, you already know that it’s useless to try and pry a real answer out of this guy, so you just gesture to the body beside the circle. “You know that cleaning this up isn’t easy, right?” Guts and skin had been flayed to such perfection that whatever poor teenager this had once been wouldn’t be easy to get registered in the system. “It takes hours to get rid of and in the meantime I’ll have sent you away to your own cozy dimension, so that you won’t be any further danger to me.”

You lift your hands up to stop whichever retort the demon might’ve shot back. “But you know what. I think you can stay here, within your nice little circle and just watch while I clean so that you won’t be conning another innocent youth into summoning you while I’m scrubbing away here and then having to fake their death.”

When you then see the self-satisfied smile appear on his face and sense the comment he was going to add, you snap your fingers to empathize your next point. “Though the moment I hear you utter a single sound; you’ll be sent straight back to your lil’ hive. Capiche?” You are too tired to think of any other alternative, this continuous hunt has been wearing you down to the point where you felt like you might be falling asleep standing.

The form made of ethereal shadow and bone is still for a few moments before you see him nod his head once. Good. You were too tired to also listen to his continuous blabber.

You start fetching in the necessary tools, gathering the bloodied remains of the body in a bag to be burned later and scrubbing away the blood that has seeped into the carpet.

All the while you try not to look over at the unprofessionally scrawled circle containing probably one of the most powerful demons you’ve yet to meet. Though even if he possessed the potential to actually be dangerous he just seems infatuated with you.

No damned idea why.

Though via the few glances you do manage to shoot his way within the long hours you’re at work, you only see that he’s staring at you. Like he’s studying you. It honestly weirds you out a little.

You’re not nearly the strongest exorcist out there, but he just keeps appearing within the area that you have to take care of, since the order is rather far-stretched. Luckily most upper-class demons appear to be rather sophisticated, or else you might have been killed by this guy the moment you turned your back. However, after the time you fought off this dumb cult of idiots that seemingly believed that summoning a demon was a wise thing, he’d continually made it his goal to see you within a specific interval. Much to your disdain.

First it had been a month. Then every few weeks after the first couple of years had passed. A week. And now he was appearing twice a day at the very least.

The sleep-loss was starting to wear your patience down a little. As was the dead bodies you had to clean up.

How did he even manage to maul them when he was stuck inside the circle was a dilemma that you should probably soon inquire about to your bosses.

Urgh, you feel so drained.

Fortunately, it seems like the teen was living alone, hence why there probably wasn’t any other bodies in the room. Heh, what luck. When had you started to think that just one corpse was something good? Maybe when Gaster had made your work literal hell.

Finally kneeling down to erase a bit of the circle, you’re still careful of not letting even a single strand of hair slip within the barrier that separated the demon from the real world. Still, you needed to figure out which sign was the one that would erase the opening and your eyes were blurring.

Shit damn, you were almost done. Let you pass out after you’ve just finished this.

Rubbing at your hazy eyes, you lean back to sit cross-legged a little further away from the circle. Maybe you should have bought an energy-drink to keep you going, but you wouldn’t risk leaving the house for longer than it took you to fetch your cleaning-gear from your car.

Suddenly, you feel something that mimicks hands cup your face. Lifting your gaze from the floor, you hear a solemn voice ring out from the darkness of the room.

“Rest well my dear.” And then there was something pressing against your lips. Through your exhaustion you manage to see that it’s Gaster’s fangs that are gingerly making contact with your mouth, somehow managing to pass the barrier without any trouble.

The moment he lets you go, you tumble backwards and just manage to see one large talon scratch itself over one of the signs etched into the flooring, efficiently cancelling out the summoning.

With a last flicker of his form, you see Gaster fade out from reality once again. A few words in departure.

“Until next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was really fun to write!! Demon Gaster might be the most amusing Gaster I've written to this date!!! 
> 
> Would you guys maybe be up for me writing this as a full series?


	11. Texting time (Sans/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans/Reader based on the prompt: “I left my phone number on the bathroom stall wall and you text me about your day and your frustrations for a month & it’s really nice and cute but I still don’t know who you are”

It had been an act of impulse, feeling a little lonely sitting and weeping in the public toilet-stall, half-drunk off your ass when just having somebody you’d crushed on in forever reject you while out drinking with your friends. Well, let us just say that you hadn’t taken it very well.

So eyeing the scribbled over lines of probably decades worth of rants and other silly memoire on the paste-white wall of the toilet-stall. Your drunken self fished out one of the many pens hidden in the never-ending depth of your pockets, writing a simple message.

‘Talk to a friend, I’ll listen.’ With your number unevenly scrawled underneath.

After leaving that simple sign of your existence, you walked out of the toilet. The moment you found your way home you’d all but forgotten your impulsive gesture.

Until the very next week. When you suddenly received a message from an unknown sender.

 **Unknown:** still open to chat with a friend?

It took you a few moments to realize that this was a result of your little message you’d left.

Well you had told them to just write if they needed somebody to talk to.

 **You:** Yeah, sure. I mean it’s a little weird that you actually found the number.

It only a few minutes passes before a reply chimes in.

 **Unknown:** let’s just say that i have a good eye for details.

 **You:** Well the offer still stands, wanna tell me if there’s anything going on? I’m just a message away.

 **Unknown:** thanks, i’ll take you up on it.

Then within the next few weeks you gradually started to learn more about this complete stranger, though neither of you specifically actually ever told each other your names. It had become some sort of unspoken agreement that you wouldn’t burst the bubble of anonymity.

You never really talked about more than just your day and if there was something bothering the other, a nice little routine of sorts. It was a nice distraction to some of your own personal troubles, and after a while, you found out that they frequented some of the same places as you.

You even occasionally figured that you’d been to the same place as them, at the same time. Talk about coincidences, right? Like at a concert or the opening of one of the new restaurants downtown.

But god diddily dang, the thought of actually meeting them at some point couldn’t help but seem tempting. The conversations you had going were endearing and caring, furthermore you honestly found that your anonymous buddy was kind of cute. Even if you didn’t know how they looked, or even their name.

How you even managed to crush on somebody you couldn’t even place a face to, was something that lied beyond your understanding. It apparently came to you a little too easily.

Which is why you were hesitating, your finger hovering above the send button of your phone with an attached message of you asking your unknown friend if they would like to meet up sometime. It had taken you about a week to write out the message itself, with you instantly deleting it the first time. After that you’d been trying to force yourself to send the sodden thing about four times. This time though, your finger was just that closer to pressing the button.

Oh fuck it.

Finally willing enough strength into your thumb, you send the message. Tossing the offending device onto the pillow beside you, you somewhat eagerly awaited either a confirmation or a rejection. Ah shit, what if they said no?

Though your thoughts weren’t allowed to plummet for long, as a reply lit up your screen.

 **Unknown:** ya, sounds good. tbh i’ve been wanting to ask the same thing for a lil’ while now.

Oh thank the gods. They accepted.

Discussing it further, the two of you manage to decide on a date and a place. Your nerves felt on fire the entire time, wanting nothing more than having the meeting take place _here_ and _now_.

When in actuality, the moment the circled date neared, you were in a panic. What if they were a monster that hated humans? What if you didn’t live up to their expectations of you? Oh gosh, so many unanswered questions.

Welp. Dressing up in some of your nice going-out clothes, you finally ventured out of your home and away to the designated place. It was a little cozy tea-shop, manned by a rather large monster that you could have sworn you’d seen somewhere before. Though since there weren’t that many in there yet, you doubted that your friend was too and just decided to try some of the nicely accented stock of teas they had at the café.

Sitting down near one of the windows, you peered out at the passerby’s, wondering if they would even come. Though taking in a deep breath, you showed your stupid paranoia away, thinking like that wouldn’t help at all. 

Staring absentmindedly out the window, you didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings. Which might be why, the moment you registered that somebody sat down in the seat across from you, you startled and slammed your knee into the underside of the table.

“Owwww…” keening over, you cradle your poor knee underneath the table and rest your forehead against the table.

“uh, woops? sorry about the scare bud.”

Raising your gaze up from the flat surface, you managed to get a good look at your company. Almost hollow sockets stared back. They were a skeleton, though they seemed to be made of some more dense stuff than the human kind, managing to furrow their brows at your apparent pain.

“No, no.” you try and assure the fellow. “I’m erh. Somewhat alright. Just zoned out a little and wasn’t ready for anybody to show up.”

They raise an eyebrow at that. “hopefully you were expecting me.” While that didn’t make a lot of sense, he just continued to fish out his phone, showing a gps-tracking thingy. “your phone lead me here atleast.”

Wait a minute. “It’s you?”

That brought a smile to their face. “Yeah, got a friend who knows how to figure out stuff like this. Helped a lot when trying to find you today.” A hand reached over to squeeze your shoulder, “though i didn’t plan to startle you into hurting yourself. anyways, i’m sans, sans the skeleton”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like all of these prompts either turn out a bit weird like this one, or complete gold... or is it just me? (ouo)


	12. Night time (Gaster/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaster/Reader based on the prompt: "first day at a new job and oh fuck my boss is the person I drunkenly hooked up with last weekend/night"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Is this mature? Sorta? So if you don't like referenced sexual stuff, then you probably shouldn't read it. Just in case.

There’s an uncomfortable silence that feels like it stretches into eternity. Your eyes are interlocked with his, stunned. You don’t know what to do, this was nothing you could ever have expected to happen. Any sort of rebound from your careless decision should not include this sort of coincidence, the universe doesn’t work that way.

A slight memory of gasping and heated touches, struggles its way into the front your mind, efficiently making you flush.

He’s as tall as you remember, with his features marginally more defined in the bright lights of the laboratory compared to the soddy light of the bar and later, the cheap hotel-room.

Well maybe the alcohol in your system that night had also managed to addle your sense of perception a little. Because he certainly seems even more handsome than previously.

Oh god, your colleagues are probably staring.

Tensing slightly, you manage to pry your eyes from his, breaking the trance that the two of you had shared. To confirm your suspicions, you hear the slight murmur of gossip around the two of you, sidelong glances casted at the new meat and the probably very experienced doctor.

This was not what you expected when you sought out this job, working in a lab as a biochemist that you’d been trying to get into in ages. The very unexpected dilemma of facing someone you had drunkenly hooked up with just three days ago when you celebrated getting the job by your lonesome, was not included in the job-description.

You’d drunkenly sought out the monster giving off similar vibes of loneliness, continuing your celebration with someone you’d just met and never really expected to see again. One drink had led to another and before you registered it, you had kissed him. Forward a few hours and you had probably had the best one-night stand. Ever.

While you had very much enjoyed the night, it had just been that, one night. So, how the hell did you manage to fuck your upcoming boss just a few days before you had to start at your new workplace?

Someone up high is probably having quite a laugh at your cost.

You hear him clear his throat, efficiently snapping your attention back to the nicely-clad monster.

“I believe that I’m acting incredibly rude.” As your eyes met his, he raised one gloved hand. “I’m W.D. Gaster, welcome to the lab ____”

Hesitantly grasping his hand in yours, you vaguely recall the uncovered hands cupping your face to angle your kiss better. “Thank you mister W.D. I’m happy to be here.”

To your reply, he breaks into the most adorable and beautiful smile.

Oh fuck.  


	13. Fight time (Undyne/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Undyne/Reader based on the prompt: "I’m fightin this person and they shoved me into u im sooo sorry- oh hey you’re cute- oH MY GOD UR KICKIN ASS MARRY ME!!! PLEASE!!!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Pulls out a megaphone* Gayyyyyyyy~

You eye throbbed, a dull burn starting to form and your vision swayed a little as you tried to dodge away from another punch.

Kicking you with your leg, you were rewarded by a yelp of pain and cursing as you gained a minute to try and focus with you non-blackened eye. It was hard, the pain distracted you as you blearily kept your eyes on your assailant.

Perhaps finally confronting the problem hadn’t been that wise of a choice. They were seemingly a lot stronger than you, and only your agility helped you gain an advantage over the much heavier person.

Not seeing the slap coming from your almost blind side, you stumbled and almost fell. Though you were caught the last second, when you feel into somebody else’s chest. Strong hands supported your frame.

“You alright there, bud?”

Blearily, you tried to look at the person who’d prevented your meeting with the concrete.

Red.

That was the first thing you noticed, a flaming wild scarlet framing the face of probably the most attractive monster you had met up till this point. Wow.

Sadly you didn’t have the time to marvel over her looks, as your bully yelled at you to stop being a wuss and face them. Straightening, you winced as you felt the sore skin of your face pull taunt, pain lacing through your nerves.

Giving the beautiful monster a half-grin, you tried to assure her that you were fine. “Yeah, yeah. Just a little problem that I’ve let bug me for too long.”

“Hmmm…” Her eyes locking with yours, you felt yourself flush at the intensity that stemmed from what felt like every particle of her body. “Maybe, they need to learn not to bully a cute lass like you.”

Well that managed to stun you. You? Cute? With a black eye and various physical bruises from previous encounters with the asshole. “I-I’m-“ Though before you managed to reply, the prick started to yell obscenities, saying that you were ‘a weak little coward who was using the monster as a shield to avoid the real fun’.

“Ok that’s it!” suddenly the monster lunges forward with a speed that almost seemed overworldly, her hair fell from over her shoulder to fly behind her, a trail of blazing red filling your vision.

And.

And she’s kicking ass, bigtime.

Holy shit, before the bully even registered it, her fist collided with their sternum, efficiently forcing their lungs to release all of the air contained within. Slouching forward and trying to catch their breath again, the monster grabs their head and smashes their nose against her knee.

Nose broken, the bully cries and tries to move away from the monster. She watches them as they scuttle, letting them flee as she made sure that they wouldn’t try and jump on her turned back.

Finally out of sight, she huffs, turning around to seeing you stare enraptured at her.

Can you possibly want to marry somebody who just saved your ass? Maybe.

Stepping over to inspect your features with a gentleness that did not give away any of the astonishing strength she’d displayed just seconds ago. You can't do much more than let it happen, everything feels so surreal.

“You did well lass. You’re looking so scrawny that I wouldn’t think you’d even try and do something as badass as confronting the asshole! That’s real tough!” She’s smiling, displaying a row of very sharp fangs and you involuntarily feel yourself shiver at the sight. God, that’s really hot.

Finally convincing you to just follow her to her place, as to make sure that the ass didn’t try and jump you again, even if you doubted very much that they would even lay eyes on you now that she’d so very efficiently scared them away.

At some point during the walk back, you’d tried to say something witty, with resulted in her letting out the most joyful laughter and her – to your immediate surprise – slapping your ass.

Confronting that bully was maybe the best decision ever made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ppl and me liked Undyne/Reader before and I say, bring on the gay.


	14. What time? (Sans/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans/Reader based on the prompt: "Accidentally knocked on the wrong dorm room college au"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really weird and random, but was oddly pleasing to write.
> 
> Yeah ok, stupid stuff ahoy.

Alright, maybe walking home from a night in town by your lonesome hadn’t been the best idea.

But hey, you were only a few streets away from the dorms anyway, so no biggie.

Uh. What was your dormnumber again? 516? 513? 651?

Meh, you’ll figure it out.

So when standing in front of your building, you just blurrily managed to recall that you hadn’t brought your keys with you, since your roomie said that they would be able to open the door for you since you’d already lost three keys on your silly ventures into town.

Oh come on, you weren’t that scatterbrained.

Only when drunk.

Which you certainly were as you dragged yourself up five floors to the corridor where your room was hopefully in.

Ok, back to numbers. Squinting at the first door to your right, you read the number ‘230’. Eh, close enough. It should be here.

Walking a little futher, a roomnumber just gave you the right impression. The label-sticker on the wood reading ‘216’, which, with the 2 turned upside down in your head gave the number ‘516’ must be your dorm.

So, as your roommate had reasoned earlier, you should try and knock to see if they might’ve fallen asleep while you were out.

And knocking you did.

“DEEDE YOU FUCKER LET ME IN!” Though after your fist had approximately made contact with the door three times, it opened.

Not revealing your roomie.

Instead of being greeted by the neon pink fluff of hair that usually decorated the top of your small friend. You were instead met with a face that was lacking any hair at all.

“heya kid. i’m thinking that you might’ve gotten the wrong room.”

Uh.

Suddenly faced with a real-fucking-living skeleton and not your grumpy roommate, your brain kinda short-circuited. Making you just stand there dumbly as the monster eyed you verily.

Only a single thought coming to mind.

“Fuck not again.”

“excuse me?”

Fuck, you’d said that out loud. Flailing your hands a little, you motion to nothing in general as you tried to explain the circumstances. “Oh shit, sorry. It’s not you!” more swearing, wonderful, your filter was nonexistent. “I’m fuck- I mean. It’s not the erhm, first time? That I’ve done this.”

“you mean knock on the wrong room with enough power to shake the building?” Ouch, somebody was grumpy.

“I mean, uh, yeah.” you smacked your forehead with your palm, wanting nothing else than sober up and actually remember where you were supposed to go. But sadly the fog was still present in your mind, making you unable to put two fucking thoughts together for more than a minute.

“well?”

Huh? “Well… what?”

“well did ya wanna come in or can you remember the roomnumber yet?”

“Uhmm…” What was this guy’s game? Maybe there was none at all. “ssssuure?” you still slurred a bit.

And following a few bad attempts at you not trying to puke all over the monster’s carpets. You ended up crashing on this ‘Sans’ guy’s couch for the night, with a killer hangover the next morning and a note tuckered underneath your hand.

ya might want to hang around for breakfast

my bro is killer at cooking

also you might wanna watch yourself when walking about

  * Sans



Wondering about that last comment as you stood, you felt something give in under the sole of your foot.

_Pppppppfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffrrrrrrrrttttttttttttt_

Oh god there was whoopiecushions all over the place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told ya it was stupid. ﾍ(=￣∇￣)ﾉ


	15. Date time (Asgore/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asgore/Reader based on the prompt: "i got stood up on a date and i’m trying to not let anyone find out because i’m super embarrassed so you felt bad and came over to pretend to be my date"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After stumbling into some v adorable Asgore fics, I just wanted to write the big fluffball.

Sitting there, you felt yourself want to sink further into the ground than ever before. With your clothes a bit flashy and your hair done as well as one could, there was a clear indication of you being on a date.

Or well, were supposed to.

It had been an hour now.

Perhaps meeting on a dating site hadn’t been the best of decisions, but you’d been talking on and off for about a month before you decided to meet up. So you’d hoped that they would live up to their promise and meet with you at this – relatively everyday restaurant. They hadn’t.

Sipping on the water in front of you, your eyes flickered down to your passive phone on the table. Despite about five messages sent within random intervals ever since you got there, you hadn’t received a single reply.

The waiters were starting to shoot you pitiful looks, knowing the defeated look of one that has been stood up. Just the mere indication that you needed their pity made your eyes burn, you had landed yourself in this stupid situation yourself, and you felt no need for others to try and comfort you. Even if it was nice that they let you stay despite not having ordered more than water.

Gazing out at the busy streets outside the window, you felt the tears coming on. God _damnit_.

That’s when someone suddenly sat down in the seat across from yours. Snapping your eyes back, you felt an insult on the edge on your tongue for them being as late as they were.

Only to discover that it wasn’t them at all.

A large horned monster, with a fluffy exterior that wasn’t unlike a goat’s, rested his eyes on your frame with eyes that seemed open and friendly as unlike many. You’d never seen any as regal in posture, or possibly as endearing in their slightly ruffled appearance.

Wait, were he trying to save you from this? Where did he even come from?

Still staring, you forced yourself out of your confused stupor, smiling at the much-larger form of the monster. “Hello, I’m _____”

Seemingly being stuck in a similar state od awe, the monster took a second before he registered the words. “Ah yes, it’s nice to finally meet you _____, I’m Asgore and so, so sorry for being late.”

Oh you were going to really try and act this out. Oh gosh, you might be tearing up again because this fricking adorable and very large monster was trying to console you by making it seem like he was your date.

“It’s alright Asgore, I was just enjoying the view.”

It wasn’t the last date the two of you went on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk, I just want this schoolyear to ennnnnnnddddddd (;*´Д`)ﾉ


	16. Hard time (Underfell!Papyrus/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Underfell!Papyrus/Reader based on the prompt/sentence: "If you ever feel scared, alone or just want to talk. You know how to call me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so I'm sorta running out of inspirational or silly prompts for these, which makes it a little hard for me to figure out more. Also, I've started a p heavy fic "The end of Tomorrow" which I would recommend if you're interested in triple Grillby/Reader (ↀДↀ)✧

You’re sitting in the living-room when it happens. Working passively on an assignment, you would usually try and ignore the buzz of your phone on the stand, wanting to finish up the tedious chore in favor for whoever was trying to reach you.

But you don’t, and you’re glad as you look at the caller.

\- _The terrible terror_

He never called. Only occasional texts and those were mostly for when you were going to meet up.

Something must be wrong.

Picking it up, you manage to swipe the accept button before it goes over to voicemail.

“Hey.” You mutter into the receiver, unsure as to why he’d call.

“I…” His voice is hesitant, something you’d never really heard. Usually his voice would be stern, almost bordering to commanding even as he spoke about casual things. “Would it be possible for the terrible Papyrus to…?” There are no pleasantries, no need either as you can guess why he is calling.

You catch onto the suggestion, agreeing before he has to vocalize any more over the phone. “Yeah.” The moment you comply, the line goes silent and then shuts off. Shutting your computer, you hear the familiar sound of him teleporting into the room.

Moving to stand up from the couch, you barely manage to push yourself off the cushions before you’re shoved back by a weight settling over your form. Large arms cradling your head and lower back, his nasal ridge is pressed against your neck and he seems to take in your scent for a moment.

You barely manage to register the situation in itself before your arms return the gesture, trying to wind up around his shoulders, you find that you’re unable to with his width and is instead ends up just placidly wrapped around his neck.

Also unlike how you usually see him, he isn’t wearing anything pointy or aggressive-like. The fabric your fingers brush over is unmistakably a sweater, though you can’t see If he’s wearing any different pants than usual, since his form is blocking out most of your sight.

“Something the matter?” you gently mutter as you can feel him settle on top of you. His usually boney ribcage is cushioned by the sweater, so it’s not uncomfortable to have him like this.

His reply isn’t instantaneous, and you wait for him to feel a bit more at ease, hesitantly running your fingers up a vertebra.

“Was I wrong?” You’d guessed why he’d act so submissive, and it seems like you were on the mark with the assumption.

“No.” You don’t know the context, but with him working as a law-enforcer, there is times where they all feel like they were on the ‘evil’ side of things. “It’s not black and white, not with this. You did your best, even if it didn’t end up as you’d hoped.”

You heard him draw a pained intake of air, his head nuzzling into the collar of your shirt. “They panicked.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I wasn’t fast enough.”

“It’s not your fault.” At this, his hold around your waist tightened, his posture tense and regretful as he leaned back to meet your eyes.

“Why did you pick up?” There’s anger in those word, not necessarily directed towards you. Perhaps himself, as he’d been the one to call.

You hand moves from the base of his neck, until it rests gingerly on his cheek.

“You’re important to me.”

He squeezes his eyes shut at this, a clear turmoil of emotion swirling in his head. You sometimes wondered how his cranium managed to display such flexibility, but when he’d talked it down to ‘magic’, you’d just accepted it as a fact. His face, usually all fangs and pointy ends, seem more rough and worn than ever.

As you hesitantly brush the tips of your fingers over the different features, the corner of the protruding fangs and the edge of his eye. He, without opening his eyes, grabs your hand to turn and press his teeth to it in a mimic of a kiss.

You realize then, that he’d actually listened to those words you’d said ages ago. That if something went wrong and his morals felt screwed, he could talk to you, even if it was just a phone call.

And now, he needs it. The comfort that he’d otherwise reject. He’s starving for the confirmation that he’s not a murderer that hides behind authority.

“C’mere.” Your voice barely audible, you use the hand he wasn’t holding onto to gently tug on his shirt, indicating for him to embrace you again.

Obliging, he settles with his forehead resting against yours.

He doesn’t speak again, just resting. You settled with telling hushed stories from your friend-group that he’d probably already heard before, but the noise seems to calm him down some. Continuing on like this until the early hours of the morning, you end up falling asleep within his exceptionally gentle embrace.

The next morning, he leaves without a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeahhhh, so this isn't that happy. Also it's pretty unspecified if it's romantic or platonic affection, so go with whatever floats your boat fellas~ ᕕ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )ᕗ
> 
> But really, if any of your have some fun/sad/extreme prompts that you'd like me to try and write out, then please shoot it at my [bootiful tumblr here](http://costumebleh.tumblr.com/) cuz I seriously need some brand new ideas if I'm gonna keep these going! ;y


	17. Rest time (Papyrus/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Papyrus/Reader based on the prompt: “Imagine person A of your OTP working overnight to meet a deadline, leaving person B to sleep alone. Struggling to do this, B gets up during the night and goes to the next room where A is, snuggling up to sleep beside them while they work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, Fluff and mORE FLUFF! ლ(●ↀωↀ●)ლ
> 
> But yeah, it'll probs be another couple of weeks before I can fully start to write stuff again since I have exams and a large project weighing on my mind rn and tbh it's stressing me the fuck out. ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Love ya'll!

It wasn’t easy, working with tracking down cases for the supreme court and making sure that all details were in place when the fellow was going to be presented and taken care of. But then again, you never really liked working on anything that wasn’t challenging.

Though your body probably wished that you were more prone to avoid sleepless nights, like tonight, where you were pressing past four in the morning only on hot chocolate and willpower alone. Coffee had never really worked for you, so you had instead developed an addiction to the alternative energizing drink.

Aside from your body complaining, you also had another reason why you really wanted to finish work and go to bed. Since Papyrus had moved in with you, you’d been less prone to the late nights, since he had a hard time sleeping himself when alone and you cared too much for him not to at the very least try and go to bed at a proper time.

Tonight was the first time in about a month that you’d had to sit like this, despite doing it almost every other night when living alone. While the guilt was there, you knew that you couldn’t turn this in late since it would be an even bigger pain to explain.

So there you were, contemplation your choices as you managed to try and type out the court’s laws that had been breached and how in relation it should be presented.

However, without you noticing, Papyrus had entered the room. Groggily making his way over to the couch you were sitting on, papers strewn all over the table in front and several empty mugs of liquidized chocolate littering here and there. He ignored the mess in favor for plopping down next to you.

It took you a few moments before you actually managed to register his placement, pillow pressed against your side as his one hand reached up to lay passively on your thigh. Moving your focus from the screen of your computer, you noticed the exhausted expression on Papyrus’ face as he laid there. You felt a pang of guilt.

You knew how hard a time he had sleeping alone after his brother had to start traveling.

Lifting your hand to gently brush over his cheek, “Sorry. I’ll be done soon.”

He just mumbled and nuzzled against your touch. “I am perfectly fine like this, take the time you deem necessary.”

That just made the thorn of responsibility burrow a little deeper into your chest. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” And with that, he seemingly started snoozing, you touch comforting him and keeping the darker thoughts at bay.

Taking a minute to gingerly run your hands over his different facial structures, you turned your attention back to the files you had open on your computer, typing as fast as you could without making any errors.

It took you another hour before you were done, pressing the subject matter perhaps a little unevenly, but you were too tired and too full of need to cuddle up with your skeleton that you found that you actually did not care all that much.

Finally sending in the email with your work attached, you shut down your computer and put the remaining mess into piles that you would sort once you’d gotten some sleep.

As you turned your attention back to Papyrus, your heart clenched as you saw his relaxed expression.

Not caring about how you would be sore in the morning, you moved around on the couch, ending up with your head tucked under Papyrus’ chin and your arms wound around his chest. Being lulled to sleep with the gentle melody of his magic coursing through his body, you quickly fell asleep as per usual.

What you didn’t notice, was that a while later, you were carried into the bedroom by Papyrus. Making sure that you got enough sleep, he didn’t want you to lay on that creaky couch. Delicately, he tucked you in with his form wrapped around yours. With your presence keeping any negative memories and thoughts at bay, he slept.


	18. Flirty time (???/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt: "You’ve caught me checking you out in what I thought was a subtle way too many times and now you’re calling me out on it what do I do?"

Oh fuck.

Fuckidy fuck.

Your eyes lock with his, the curiosity emitting from the stare was enough to make you flush.

Even if it was neat to finally get to see those beautiful eyes of his, you didn’t need the embarrassment that followed. It was bad enough that you’d tried to sneakily steal glances his way most of the evening, but that he’d actually caught you. Well.

Oh, fuck.

As you froze like a deer in the headlights, you saw him go and give you a smile that made your knees weak. It is hard, when he’s in truly looking at you to not either try and jump him or run away just as you try and pay the tab.

Though as if all of your fantasies has become a reality, you see him waving you over from his spot in the room. Holy. Really? He’s inviting you over?

Nervously, you rise from your table, grabbing the drink you’d been sitting with and try not to show how much you just wanted to sprint over there.

But you don’t, and you think that you actually manage to pull off a fairly good ‘whatever’ bored look on your face as you plop down on the chair next to him.

Oh gosh his features are even more stunning this close, everything seemed as if they’d been carved with the utmost care. Nervously fidgeting, you dared not make eye-contact with him. What if he thought that you were a creep? Well it had just been so hard not to catch a glimpse every few minutes.

Oh no, what’re you going to do?

Before your brain manages to lead your thoughts further astray, you feel a cold hand go down to rest on your thigh. Raising your eyes to meet his, you notice that he’s doing that quirk again that you had caught onto earlier.

Breath hitching in your throat, you can just barely breathe as your eyes are interlocked with his. Opening his mouth to speak, you notice those luscious lips.

Digging out the finger he’d stuck in his nose, he flickers the booger off somewhere into the room.

“So toots, how much for a motorboating for Jerry here? Or are you just that cheap?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°)


	19. Kids time (Gaster/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaster/Reader based on the prompt: "a scary-looking person who unintentionally makes kids cry and a daycare volunteer meet at a children-filled park"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta make up a bit for the previous chapter, the-one-who-must-not-be-named. Eheh.（=´∇｀=）
> 
> Also, while I said that once my vacation started, that I would update shit. I'm sorry, but I've either been writing half-finished chapters, gaming or getting drunk + hangover. So idk when there'll be new chapters for everything else, but we will see I guess. ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

When the kids came running towards you, crying and babbling about some sort of boogeyman hiding somewhere in the park, you couldn’t help but explain that there would be no such thing out in clear daylight, and they had probably just spotted some animal that had startled and run.

But despite the reassuring tone of your voice, they pointed with their grimy hands at one of the benches placed by the other end of the playground. Where there indeed sat a lonely figure, you could only guess that they had seen a monster that just seemed a little different compared to their other playmates.

Nevertheless, you made sure to promise the children that you would go and ‘scare’ away the frightening person, so that the children could play unaffected.

You didn’t like having to chase away other people, so you supposed that you could perhaps just talk to them, whereas the children would be watching. Hereafter you would return and assure them that it was quite safe.

So, walking over to the bench. You stopped by the side of the figure, unsure of how to start the conversation. This was why you worked with kids, they didn’t need prompting to speak.

Though, they seemingly sensed your approach and thus turned their attention to you. It was a skeleton, wearing a large black hoodie that draped loosely over their form and the hood served to hide their traits from any people that were just passing by. Though the sleeves were rolled up to display the bones of their arms, so maybe they’d forgotten the purpose, or maybe just didn’t particularly care.

Either way a watchful pair of lights, floating around in their sockets, were now focused on your form.

Hoh boy, this is a little awkward.

Coughing, since the nerves were drying out your throat, you managed to ask; “Can I sit here for a bit?”

To which the monster replied, “Of course, my apologies if I seemed intimidating to you.”

You brushed some imaginary dust off your shirt, sitting down you tried to keep the conversation going. “Oh no, it’s really nothing. I’m just looking out for some kids, and they uh…” well done, fucked up within the second thing you were saying.

But they only laughed it off, “Do not spare my feelings, I am aware of my slight relation to what children are afraid of.” They paused for a second, apparently thinking and then adding; “Well human children in any case.”

“Ah, eheh.” You didn’t know if you were doing this right, awkwardly fiddling with your hair. “Sorry about that, they didn’t mean anything bad by it since you know.” You shrugged, feeling some heat rise to your cheeks. “Kids yanno, doesn’t really know that what they’re doing is rude.”

Well kudos, you were fucking up.

 While you were seriously contemplating standing up and leaving, they spoke again. “I’m certain that is the truth, do not worry.” A skeletal hand reassuringly came to rest on your shoulder. “You will show them a respectable example with the way you came here to talk.” You swore that you caught onto a little thread of humor by the end of the sentence.

Oh geez, the ground was suddenly very interesting. Your voice a bit less prominent, you didn’t know what you should say and you had no idea if the monster was offended or not. “Uhm… Sorry, I just…”

Then, their fingers gently brushed your cheek, gaining your attention. When looking back up, you saw nothing but mild amusement in their features. “Do not stress it, you’re doing everyone a great service. Even an old skeleton like me can see that you’re a good soul.”

Gosh, that was blushing. Seemed like you were still capable of it, even with all the years you’d been out of the dating-life, you were affected by something as simple as this. Calm down.

Though, after you’d found out mister Gaster’s name, you didn’t leave the bench for a good while after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to me fellas *takes in a deep breath* Gaster in casual clothes. (・∀・)
> 
> That, my sirs, is some nice shit. 
> 
> Hope you liked the fluff, EXPECT MORE IN THE FUTURE! (ΦзΦ)


	20. Confrontation time (Gaster!Sans/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaster!Sans/Reader based on the prompt: "You’ve got a date tonight and you asked for advice on what to wear but I’m so in love with you and damn you look good in the outfit I picked out for you"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this one got wayyy out of hand. So let's just say that this is one of the occasional long chapters, hmm? 
> 
> Also, for those interested, I intend on picking up the slack with my writing. Since I've been lazy about it these past few weeks and want to make up for that, so look forward to that! (ФДФ)

Your teeth are sinking into your knuckles as you have to suppress a content purr at the sight before you. Agreeing to this was probably both the best and worst decision of your lifetime.

Best, because you get to see your crush in outfits that you have personally picked.

Worst, because you won’t be the one to enjoy the sight of them like this all night.

Yeah, he’s like on dates two nights out of three, but apparently some really nice chick had peaked G’s interest and had decided to seek your council on the best outfit to woo her in.

And you sure as hell hadn’t failed to deliver.

While his usual style referenced a tight pair of jeans and a loose jacket. He was now wearing a nicely fit shirt with a vest, with a less-ripped pair of jeans which were just as snug as usual, but with more shape to them around his ass and hips, despite his lack of filling there.

God, you almost couldn’t resist touching him. Hence the biting of your knuckles as he turned and viewed his figure in the mirrors of the dressing-room. This pounding in your ears felt like much more than a meager crush and the need to touch, to _tell him_ , pressed at your conscious like a vice.

You would definitely be going to need a drink and some company to pass out with after he’s left.

When he turns around, G is grinning like an idiot, giving off self-confidence like a damned scent. He’s seemingly agreeing with your choice of clothing. “Ya really know your way around a nice outfit, don’tcha’ kid?”

The nickname makes you wince. He’s been using it on and off for periods at a time since you’d first met. Sadly, while he didn’t mean any harm, the suggestion that he saw you as something as immature and unattractive as a child, made you wince and your guts twist in a hundred percent unpleasant way.

This is why you hadn’t told him.

Releasing your fingers from your teeth, you fumble awkwardly with the rim of your shirt. “It’s nothing really.”

“Aw come on, yer managed to make my ass look this nice, and it’s not a’ accomplishment?” to say he’s cheeky would be an understatement. He seems even more infatuated with himself than usual as he keeps turning different ways in the mirror, the narcissistic guy.

You force an awkward smile. “I had a good model to work with.” Which, while it is about as close as you come to a confession, just seems like a compliment to him, and he practically beams with self-confidence as you finish it. “Guess you’re right abou’ that.”

Purchasing the outfit, and later splitting up, you manage to not let any of your displeasure shine through. Simply deciding to go out drinking nice and early at six in the evening, so as to dodge any chance of you running into the skeleton. Also turning off your phone as a precaution for any pre-date snaps. You are certain that if you manage to see him in those pants one more time within the next hour, your will would break and most likely try and jump him.

So drinking it is.

You decide to go to one of the less frequented bars, where the chance of running into G was minimized and the chance of you meeting someone new increased. Nothing could possibly happen to you that would include the eccentric skeleton.

Or so you told yourself after the fifth drink a little after nine, eyeing the mojito with distaste as you were still not drunk enough to forget your troubles. Curse your high tolerance.

Maybe you should go to one of your usual places? It wasn’t like you couldn’t run if you spotted G in the window. That way, you wouldn’t have to sit here in the non-familiar surroundings, with a bartender that obviously overcharged his talents. The plan actually doesn’t sound too bad.

Full-on downing the drink, you slap enough bills for your downed alcohol and an ok tip onto the bar-surface and make your way outside.

God the chilly evening does not help you sober up at all. Perfect.

Wobbling your way down a few streets, you spot a familiar hotspot. While the casual bar that the normal Grillby owned, was your preferred place to get smashed with others. The fire-elemental’s more aggressive counterpart’s nightclub was more your scene when drinking alone.

Waving a greeting to the familiar bouncer, you go on inside.

The purple-flamed man behind the counter seemed to approve your choice of location, though he still angrily dismissed any sort of friendship.

Well, even though the first half hour at the club consisted at you teasing the indigo elemental, you managed to coax him into breaking out some of his nicer whiskey for you to continue your pleasant non-sober state.

When a few hours had ticked by, you’d managed to keep the buzz going while talking to the pompously clad man about any and everything, just to keep yourself entertained and your mind off from the thoughts of your best friend – and crush – going on a date with some gal who probably wouldn’t even appreciate his humor and personality.

Urgh. Leaning forward, you planted your forehead onto the surface of the table, groaning. The whole not-thinking-about-your-crush thing wasn’t really working, even if the sufficient amount of chemicals in your veins.

Though, while you’re wallowing in self-pity and an exceptional amount of regret, somebody apparently decides to plop their heavy ass down onto the chair right next to yours.

In all the hells; _why the hell did you have such shoddy luck tonight_?

But when you finally raise your gaze at the intruder of your personal space, you’re met with the sight of a large bruise covering the cheek of the very same skeleton you’d been in internal agony over these past six hours.

Though, however nice it might be to know that he’s not smooching away with some pretty lady, you’re drunk. Which means that your filter is ripped to shreds. “What the fuck happened to you?” with your voice still slightly monotone, you manage to sound at least slightly indifferent, even if you’re fuming on the inside because you’re just not managing to see that the bruise is clearly in the shape of a handprint.

Bitch better run.

“Eh, ya know. Lass didn’ like my attitude an’ decided ta take a swing at me.” While it was a perfectly good excuse – and something you’d been the witness to more than once – the tone and the posture G usually displayed just seemed… off when saying this. No idea why.

Or maybe you shouldn’t try and psychoanalyze your best friend while drunk. “naw, an’ how come ya’re here then, G? I thought this wasn’ your sorta scene?”

That apparently quiets him for a while, contemplating. You knew that he preferred the homelier Grillby’s rather than indigo’s, since he only really went here if you dragged his boney ass along.

Seething curiosity in your hammered state, you gingerly reach out to press your fingertips against the yellow-ish darkening against the clear white of his skull. He finches in response, almost leaping back.

Ah woops. “Sorry G. My coordination is shit right now; it just looks like one helluva bruise.”

Still slightly tense, G leans forward with a cigarette between his teeth. Always unlit, since your lungs never really reacted well to the habit. Though his stance is still slightly tense and his eyes seem to flicker between you, and something over your shoulder.

“Naw kid.” Ah, there it is. The nickname. You just want to tone it out and forget that he ever said it. “t’s alright, nothing a lil’ bit of healing can’t fix.”

You release a low hum in response, mood suddenly dropping a bit again. You really despise that fucking nickname, why did he have to use it now? You’re drunk and will probably react negatively if you don’t watch yourself.

“an’ about why I’m about here. Heh.” As you watch, a yellow-ish hue spread across his face. What? “I- erh- uh.” He suddenly seems a bit dumbfounded or maybe… embarrassed? “I just sorta had a feel that yer would be here.”

Oh. Alrighty then. That seems a bit weird.

“A feeling?”

“Yeah.” he keeps quiet after that, chewing on his cigarette. You know that it’s his nervous habit, something he does when he’s trying to work up the will to do something. So, after a disaster of a date, is he doing that? He should be his usual cheery and flirtatious self. He’d never let anything like a slap push him off balance.

What the fuck is going on?

Well your drunk mind doesn’t know shit, so that question has to be left unanswered.

You let your eyes skit over his form, realizing that he is still wearing the outfit you choose. The one you swore you couldn’t restrain yourself by if you ever saw it again.

Fuck dignity, you need another drink.

Gesturing for your purple comrade to shatter your wits with his strongest, you scowl when he shakes his head. The asshole. He _knew_.

 He knew and he’s trying to do a play by.

The drinks had better be cheaper than usual the next time you came around.

Fucking asshole.

Extremely close to throwing an insult at the bartender, the feel of a boney hand put on your thigh stops you.

“Leave him be kid, he’s just looking out for ya.”

Alright, that was it. “Jesus Christ G, what the fuck do you know? Maybe I don’t need to be treated like I’m some immature brat by either of you right now? Like shit G, why the fuck are you even here? It sure as hell feels like I’m some secondary easy get-away for you after your newest bitch ditched you.”

Ah fuck, you’d gone and done it.

All of your anger, annoyance and confusion. Put on the table like a toppled house of cards.

_God damn it_.

Not wanting to look at either of them, you grabbed your jacket and made your way to the door at a fast walk. You’d just pay the next time you came. Right now, you were too close to crying.

Tumbled emotions and alcohol did not mix well.

Nevertheless, a boney arm manages to grasps onto yours, just as you manage to take the first few steps out into the freezing air. As a curse lays on your tongue, you’re pulled to the side and into an alleyway between the bar and a housing complex.

G’s voice is rough, edged with something you haven’t heard before. “Do ya really think that? That you’re less than the others?”

You snarl, because of course you do. You’re drunk and cornered, trying really hard not to let the waterworks go. “It sure as hell feels like it, you’re out, jesus at least every second day. Goofing off with some bimbo in leotard. While I’m sitting back all nice and friendly, treated like a child half of the time or just plain ignored the rest. You don’t get jack shit for pulling that bull G, not with me.”

And if words are knives, it sure looks like you got him right in the chest. His mouth agape and light dim in his sockets. You can’t even feel bad for it, because it’s the truth and the anger boiling in your chest is too strong. It chokes you to speak, but you do it anyway.

“A-and you know what G? either you man the fuck up, telling me either yes or no. Because this, this stupid fucking dance we’ve been doing for months? I’m tired of it.” The last words are naught but a whisper, “I’m _so tired_ _of feeling like this_.”

You stubbornly redirect your gaze from his, an odd feeling of settling over your shoulder, like a weight was lifted as you finally spoke the truth. You really, really wish that you hadn’t just confessed to him bigtime coated as an insult. This is not how you wanted the night to play out.

“You…” G’s voice is filled with woe and something you still can’t get a clear read on, maybe frustration? You’re not sure. He then curses softy. “Cod sucking ass, have I been acting like that?”

Unable to hold back the ire in your voice, you spit out a harsh “Yes, you fuckass!”

You move to push him away, but is stopped by his hands clasping onto yours. His head leaning forward to rest on your shoulder. You can feel him exhale against the skin of your neck, but you’re sadly too mad to appreciate the close proximity.

“’m sorry”

“No kidding bonedick.” You snort, a bit unsure what is even going on anymore. In response, a wave of nausea hits you. God, why did you drink so much? “Fuck I gotta puke.”

He lets go of your hands immediately, head shooting up to stare worriedly at you.

And you don’t manage much more than turning around to avoid letting it out where he is standing. Urgh, you the puking. But it also comes as no surprise considering all of the drinking you’ve been doing.

A cool hand rests on nape of your neck, gently cradling and brushing away the few strands of hair that sticks to your skin.

After that, the tension is broken. G helps you back onto your feet, with you unable to hold back the tears from your discomfort and fried feelings, you cry into his shirt. Mumbling incoherent apologies, he shushes you and picks you up to bring you back to rest at his apartment.

He stills his outings after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk, I had this one laying around for like, a month before I decided to finish it up. 
> 
> An alternative ending would be that instead of confronting G about his stupid-ass actions, they just kiss him. But eh, that wouldn't be as feelsy now, would it? (Ф∀Ф)


	21. Cold time (Gaster!Papyrus/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaster!Papyrus/Reader based on the prompt: "we’re in a bus stop and i’m freezing cold so you lent me your jacket and i have no idea who you are but you’re cute and your jacket smells really good"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a rather feelsy chapter with Gaster!Sans, why not a cute one with Gaster!Papyrus? o(=´∇｀=)o
> 
> Idk, but anyways! This was really fun and cute to write! Hope you guys enjoy!

You groaned, leaning your heated forehead against the side of the bus stop, reveling in the chill it provided to your exhausted self. The weather was bordering to freezing and besides from the adrenaline your wounds and scratches provided your worn body, you were also starting to feel the cold in the tank-top and sweats you were wearing.

Softly cursing under your breath, you regretted attending todays match. Sure the money you won were a nice extra to your budget, but the fight had been rather brutal and you swore that if your contact hooked you up with someone just as aggressive the next time, you would try and change your investors.

You started to pick up on a slight tremble to your fingers. Fucking marvelous.

Huffing into the palms of your hands, you dearly wished that you’d brought a coat.

Foolish thing really, when already you knew that the winter was beginning to really hit.

Barely noticing the other person at the stop, you flinch and almost reflexively try and uppercut the person when they gently reached something out to you.

Though you just barely manage to still the reaction, only staring heavy-lidded at the jacket held out to you. A deep and soothing voice addresses you worriedly; “Here, put this on. You look positively frozen in that outfit.”

Snapping your attention away from the hand – that you’d belatedly registered was only made of bone. You stare surprised at the _very tall_ skeleton in front of you. With cracks marking his features, he gives you a small smile. It was actually kinda cute.

Hesitantly, you reached out to take the jacket from his outstretched hand, accidentally brushing along the back of his hand, noticing that he had holes in his palm. He nervously lets go of the jacket, pulling his hand away quickly.

Ignoring the twinge of pain it brings you, you give him a slight smile. “Thanks.”

A green hue then covers his face at registering your gratitude. Gosh, that’s really cute. “You’re welcome.”

Pulling on the cover against the stinging cold, you snuggle into the collar. The scent that lingers there was something akin to charcoal and mint mixed together, drowsy and refreshing at the same time. Noticing that you might be acting like a total creep, you divert your gaze to the ground, noticing that one of the scrapes you’d received was still slightly bleeding through your ripped sweatpants.

Frowning, you try and press your fingers to the opening in your skin, only to hiss at the contact. A bad idea, they were probably already slightly infected.

Suddenly, you register that the skeleton’s moved down to kneel in front of you. Hand hovering unsure above the wound. “Would you like me to try and heal it?” His voice is hesitant and when you look back up at him, you notice that the green hue on his cheekbones have deepened.

“Y-yeah, sure.” You mutter, feeling slightly nervous about how you were letting this total stranger touch you.

But when his fingers coated in magic caresses your abused skin, he’s so gentle. His eyes focus on the various bruises on what was visible of your legs, removing the discolorations and closing wounds.

When he finished his treatment, he finally met with your eyes. “Is there anywhere else?”

Your mind immediately focuses on your bent ribs and the bruise on your cheek. Hesitantly, you open up the jacket to point at the point where you’d received a rough kick to your ribs. “Yeah, I think something’s wrong here.”

“Can I?” He still asked for your consent, and with your approving nod, leaned slowly forward to press his fingers to your side. With his much larger size, you were almost within his embrace, your nose extremely close to being buried against his chest. What is this and what the heck were you doing?

When he finally leaned back away from you, you could feel that you were able to breathe a little easier. Though before he totally removed his form and stood, he quickly skittered his fingertips over your cheek.

Fully healed, you couldn’t help the amazed smile escaping your lips. Pressing your fingers against your previously bruised cheek, you marveled in the ease the lessened pain provided your tired mind.

You were about to say something to the monster that had just saved you several weeks of trouble, just as your bus arrived. Cursing, you stood and almost had to make a run to stop it. When stepping inside, you barely managed to shoot an appreciative smile towards the skeleton standing by the stop. “Thank you.”

As the doors closed and the bus moved on, you noticed that you were still wearing his jacket.

Well, since you couldn’t make the bus turn around, you just buried your burning cheeks into the collar of the jacket.

Call it a hunch, but you had the feeling that you’d cross paths again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A real gentleman eh? I should write him more often, since I already have a weakness for those types (・∀・)


	22. Doctor's time (Sans/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans/Reader based on the suggestion: "So mobsterSans has a thing for a doctor at a small clinic. Everytime he gets hurt he goes to them. They might not be as thrilled to see him as he is to see them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hangover and stuff, so idk if I'll be able to get anything else out today =u= 
> 
> Tho I do want to finish the next chapter of TeoT
> 
> Eh, we'll see.

You’re flapping your hands, stubbornly trying to make your point. “No, out!”

But of course he doesn’t move an inch, his grin teasing as he keeps making his way into your private clinic. You almost feel like whacking him with a newspaper or something, wanting nothing else than to chase away this persistent bastard that is bleeding onto your fine carpet.

Shooting the skeleton a glare, you just stomp past him and into your office. Digging through your cabinets, you fish out the necessary tools for the treatment.

You just want him gone.

Why did he even bother coming over here. Every. Single. Time?

His laugh vertebrates through the relatively-tense atmosphere. “you say that every time, and yet you keep fixing me up.”

“I have a bloody doctor’s oath, you damn mafia monster!” you’ve found all the needed tools to fix him up – you feel like you’ve been using these a lot since he first started dropping by your clinic.

Yes, the annoying monster in front of you is in the mafia.

Which means that since he started coming here, others had also started approaching you at insane points of time at night. Apparently you were efficient and loyal to your patients.

You just want a good night’s sleep, is that too much to ask?

But no cursing or throwing a tantrum would get the monster out of your clinic any faster, so per the usual routine, you make him take off his shirt and jacket, inspecting the wounds and then taking care of it to the best of your ability.

Atleast he always keeps quiet when you were cleaning his various cuts and bruises – you never questioned how it was possible with bones, only focusing on the task at hand.

Wiping off the last blood on one of his ribs, you slap his knee and rise from your crouched position to stretch. “All done, finally.” You then turned to write out what it would cost for the treatment.

“you’re a miracleworker doc.”

“Yeah? You don’t pay me like I’m one.” You retort, trying to figure out how basic math works again. You are so tired, it’s what, four in the morning? Somewhere around that.

Though you’ve been trying all this time to get rid of him, no cursing, threats or promises of painful treatments has yet to succeed in making the self-righteous skeleton go somewhere else. And as always when you try and insult him, he just laughs.

It’s rather infuriating that’s for sure.

Grumbling and finally figuring out the final sum, you slap the piece of paper onto his skull. “There will be extra costs if you keep showing like this, to make up for my sleeploss.” To be entirely honest, your insomnia might’ve been just as bad tonight, but the monster doesn’t have to know that.

“yeah, yeah. the money will be paid tomorrow. as usual.” He’s still grinning, the pestilence, he raises an eyebrow at the numbers. “and looking at your normal prices i would say that you’re underselling your talents doc.”

“Just let me do my thing and keep my own budgets boneguy. Now shoo.” You waved for him to exit, laying your head down on the table, with all the intentions to sleep there.

A rough pair of fingers tugged at your hair, “I’ll leave, but don’t sleep in here. You’ll catch a cold, and then who will we be able to go to with all of our small accidents.”

“I will, I will.” You denied him the satisfaction by refraining from raising your head.

With him leaving without making a sound, you disobeyed his words and woke up with a sore back and a headache that even your best painkillers couldn’t ease.


	23. Switch time (Grillby/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grillby/Reader based on the prompt; ‘my roommate told you to crash in her room during a party that you’re not really in the mood for but you end up in my bed bc she’d switched the room signs over that morning so people would stop having sex in her room only now the party’s over and i can’t bring myself to kick you out bc you look so peaceful and cute and also bc people are sTiLl having sex in her room so i climb into the bed with you and man you smell so. good.’ au

The sigh you let out at the sight before you in your room did not manage to even rival much of the noise that was thundering outside of your private space.

When you’d noticed that switched name-tags on your door, you should have known that something was afoot. Cami was too clever to have done it as an accident, but also not responsible enough to take care of the guests that ended up at her rather ambitious rounds of after-work drinking.

Following that line of thought, considering that they were _her guests_ and even when drunk they should try and respect the _poor_ other resident that lived with her. So they tended to go into her room instead of yours when trying to ‘celebrate’ with their chosen partner.

You were so going to have a talk with her tomorrow.

But right now she would be barely coherent and fully unable to solve your situation.

Said situation being a guy having apparently passed out in your bed.

Though you supposed that the mild light his form cast over the darkened furniture of your room saved you from a stubbed toe and the bothering of turning on your lights. So, with all the grace your tired complexion could offer you, you made your way over to your small closet and pulled out a nightshirt and a pair of clean underwear. You cast one more glance at the sleeping form of the monster, confirming that his form was turned away from you and permitted you to quickly strip and don the needed clothing for sleeping.

As you stood at the side of your bed, you wondered one more time if you shouldn’t try and kick him out. But the moment you reached down to shake his shoulder, a soft sound escaped from him and he nuzzled deeper into one of the pillows he had hogged.

Oh god that was so cute… Alright he could stay.

Instead, your hand dropped down to grasp onto a free blanket to pull over yourself. Gently lowering yourself onto the bed and finally drooping off, you noticed that the slight scent of burnt pine-incense wafted gently from the monster, mixed with a subtle hint of cinnamon.

With as much sneak as you muster, you turned on your side to catch some more of the calming scent. Quickly falling asleep with the warm and smell that emitted from the monster and the low beat of music outside of your door.

The next morning, you roused to the foreign sense of being cuddled. Your free arm had sneaked around his chest in the night, with your nose pretty much pressed against his neck. In return, his one hand was gently cradling yours and the other buried in the hair by your nape. Keeping you still.

He didn’t seem to have woken up yet.

So, you decided to just nod off a little more. With your body seemingly agreeing, you blacked out in short intervals until the point where the monster awoke.

After that, you just laughed it off and told ‘Grillby’ that at least he hadn’t done what some of the other’s had in Cami’s bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for not really updating a whole lot recently. But I honestly don't think that I'll be able to update with the frequency that I did before the start of the summer, since I'm starting my last year of school and I actually want to put a proper effort into it this time around. 
> 
> Also, I think I'm going to say that within the next couple of chapters "Postcards and Bad decisions" is coming to an end. I simply don't think that I want it to lie around unfinished once I lose motivation to keep it going. Though there might pop up the odd chapter now and then when I find the motivation to it, we'll see. 
> 
> Anywho! Leave a comment of what you think and a kudos to keep me motivated! Have a lovely day sweeties!


	24. Heaven time (Fellswap!Papyrus/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt: 7 minutes in heaven, only I’m very bad with dark spaces and I don’t know how to deal with this. Also partially asked for fellswap (swapfell?) papyrus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! I am not dead! Whooo! 
> 
> Long story short, I've been working and also dealing with some bad mental stuff for a while but I've finally managed to balance it out to a degree that I think I'll be able to regularly spit out chapters for my various stories! 
> 
> So on that note, anybody up for it can send in a prompt bc I'm gonna try and spin out some more of these the next few weeks ヽ(　･∀･)ﾉ

It’s a little awkward, and more than a bit mortifying when the king calls yours and Mutt’s numbers out.

“You two will do seven minutes in heaven! And will be out of the game until we come and let you out.” Was the order.

You want to protest, Mutt has barely mustered the energy to participate in any of the orders he’s been involved in all evening. There’s no chance that he'd want to make the effort of doing this one.

And yet, he stands up and heads to the hallway where the nearest closet is. Everyone trailing behind and grinning over your ‘misfortune’. Joking about how you’ll have a cozy time with the monster and that they’ll make sure to give you _a few extra minutes._

What you really want to do is run outside and scream at the night sky that _this is everything you hate and that you’d literally rather be stabbed than doing this._

It’s not because of Mutt. It’s got nothing to with him, but everything to do with cramped dark spaces and the lack of air.

How the walls seem to decrease in size. How your breath shortens.

You hate small spaces.

But saying that will wuss you out to the others, and you don’t want to be seen as somebody who’s scared of a dare.

Nonetheless, it takes you a second before you can force yourself to step inside the closet, Mutt waiting inside as everybody else looks on expectantly.

Once inside, you press yourself up against the opposite wall of Mutt, staring transfixed as the last sliver of light disappears under the crack of the door before it’s fully shut.

Mutt hasn’t said a thing the entire time, just gazing lazily around as if it didn’t matter much. You wish you had his sense of mulling through things like these without issue. As darkness fully descends, you can’t see much of anything in the close confines of the closet, but as your eyes flicker about, you do spot the smallest of lights.

Focusing on it, you see that Mutt’s eye is giving off the slightest glow. A small mercy in the darkness of the space you’re locked in.

A moment passes, with neither of you speaking and even if you wanted to, you doubt you'd be able to gather the air.

Your eyes just try to latch onto the light from Mutt, keeping your legs righted and your lungs working right. 

It takes a lot more out of you than you'd thought. 

It's after a couple minuted have snailed by, but it seems like Mutt is leaning closer, the glow shifting about as he looks you over. “you alright?”

“I’m…” you stutter out, “I’m fine.” 

“you’re shakin’ like a leaf,” he says, one of his hands grazing over your arm, almost making you startle, “don’t look fine from here.”

You don’t answer that, and now that you notice it you are quivering slightly. The claustrophobia is making you unsteady and uncomfortable.

Swallowing down against the sudden dryness in your throat, you shrug, just enough that he can feel it with his hand resting against your arm.

“not good with small spaces?” he asks, and you almost choke.  

It takes you a beat. Two. Three.

“No,” you whisper. Arms tight around yourself you can feel the nausea rise. Closing your eyes doesn’t help, now you can’t see the glow that Mutt’s emitting, but you also can’t make yourself meet his eyes right now.

Before you know it, there’s something thrown over your shoulders, weighing heavily against your frame. Releasing your death-grip against your sides, you raise your hand to feel what it is and touch soft fur.

It’s his jacket. The stupid thing that he almost is never seen without.

“Mutt?” You want to ask a thousand questions, but you don’t know which ones to voice. His hands grasp yours gently and shift you around, so you’re cradled within his arms.

“easy now, let’s make this comfier,” and he suddenly shifts so you’re both sitting down on the bottom of the closet. With him placed behind you, his long legs and arms encase your form in something that is close to an embrace.

You’re still shivering, but his eye casts a gentle light in the rest of the space, and his hands distract you by playing gently with yours, feeling out your palm and inspecting each finger curiously as he hums almost indistinctly under his breath.

It’s unexpected, _from him most of all_ – making the effort to calm you down and letting you near. What you know of Mutt he keeps to himself if he’s not with his brother, most of all he doesn’t care for others pressing into his personal space.

But here you were – coaxed into said space as he softly intertwines his fingers with yours and lets them rest there.

“ – soft.” He says. You can’t quite hear what else he says, as he leans forward to bury his face by your shoulder, and by all accounts, falls asleep just like that.

When the others come to open the closet, they find you just like that, but with both of you asleep.

Looks like that was a lot more than seven minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh, I'm out of practice! but I hope you guys enjoyed! 
> 
> Actually as I wrote this, I looked up both swapfell and fellswap and it seems that the AO3 undertale community has maybe switched them around a bit? It's weird because fellswap is supposedly with Mutt and Raspberry, but most ppl on here tag it as Swapfell, what's up with that ( ・◇・)？


	25. Escape time (Grillby/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt: You’re my waiter and I’m on a really crappy date with an asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, another update within a week! 
> 
> Amazing. 
> 
> There was requested yet another chapter with Grillby and I managed to deliver. 」(￣▽￣」)

You don’t want to be here.

You really, really don’t want to be here.

But here you are, staring at your blind date and really regretting everything leading up to this point.

The dinner itself was nice, but the company, not so much.

It’s not that he’s aggressively trying to force ideas down your throat, but he just keeps being a spot-on bigot. Politics, he starts going off a tangent about how bothering with all this equality bullshit isn’t worth it in the long run because it’ll just be a bother in the end. He just keeps talking around you and not giving you the breath to give any input.

You’ve honestly started zoning out at this point. Letting your gaze flitter about while you’re daydreaming of escape, you don’t really register that your eyes have caught somebody else’s gaze.

It’s your waiter, he’s seemingly standing by the kitchen-door, waiting for the dishes to be made. While you have no idea how to catch the eyes of somebody made entirely of fire, you almost start when you realize it.

You try not to draw the attention of your date, when you see him give you a vague gesture that interprets as ‘are you alright’.

Under the table, you give him a thumbs-down to try and simply express; ‘I want to be anywhere but here right now’.

Your date doesn’t even register that your attention has shifted and goes on and on, honestly, where did your friend find this one at. You’d roll your eyes if it wouldn’t be so obvious to your date that you’re not all that interested.

Some time passes, your date prattles on and you try to seem like you’re paying attention by adding the occasional ‘hmm’ or maybe even laughing at something he tries to make sound funny. But all in all, your eyes are still straying to the waiter.

He seems to be quite good at his job, by the way he smoothly moves around the restaurant with dishes stacked on his arms and serving them to the various patronage present. In the dimly lit room you’d expect him to stand out, but he just seems to be part of it, his light no brighter than the candles on the tables and you have to stop yourself from spending your time just staring.

But it really is much nicer than listening to your tablemate. You’ve finally reached the dessert and his spiel is still going strong. However, when you finally finish your cake, you speak up as to finish this night.

“I think I’m ready for the bill,” You say, trying to sound casual, “It’s getting late.”

“Oh,” He sounds surprised, “I didn’t realize the time.”

He even has the nerve to look sheepish, waving a waiter over and when they approach your table you notice that it’s the same monster from earlier. He nods to your date as he asks for the bill, split evenly.

Wait, he ordered more expensive food.

You turn to your date, “Hey, wouldn’t it be easier just to separate what we ate? To pay for ourselves?” you ask, not wanting to show your displeasure at his action.

“Aw, why do that when this would be our first shared buy hm?” he dares to say. As if you’d go on a second date, let alone actually go out with him.

However, since he paid little attention to your side of the conversation, he doesn’t even know that you’re a bit tight on funds at the moment. Wasting money on his pricey tastes is something you’re not going to just agree to.

“I’d rather not.” You argue.

Before the ass can start to argue, the waiter has placed the card-machine before his nose, stopping him from keeping this useless disagreement going.

“Here are your split meals, sir.” The monster says, completely professional.

Your date grumbles a little, but does pay his part of the meal. When the machine is given to you, you see that it’s less than you’d expected.

Looking up at the waiter, you give him a confused look, to which he only nods.

Oh.

He gave you a discount. Sweet.

You pay for your meal and get yourself ready to leave, when your date places a hand over yours.

“Ready for the aftershow?” He asks, leaving you so utterly disgusted for a moment, that it takes everything in you not to retort with something venomous the second you open your mouth.

Your pulse is heavy in your ears, you don’t want him to cause a scene, but you sure as hell don’t want to take him up on that offer.

“It’s a bit early to say that isn’t it?” You reply instead, trying to sound as deadpan as possible.

“Never too early for some fun.” He says.

You’re so very close to just turning and leaving, but before you make the movement to do so, the waiter returns.

“I’m very sorry, but your transaction seems to have an issue. If you could follow me.” He’s speaking to you, standing a little behind you and you can feel a warm hand against your back.

‘I’ll let you out the back.’ Is spelled out against your spine.

You could almost swear that he is godsent as you nod, him making a gesture for you to go with him.

“Don’t wait for me, It’ll probably take a while.” You say to your date, turning around and walking away.

When you’re out of earshot, you hear the gentle voice of the monster, “I hope it’s alright, I just saw how uncomfortable you were with him and drew a conclusion.”

You swear you could cry with relief, you’d avoided a confrontation and you had a way out that didn’t depend on passing by your date out the door.

By the time you both reached the back-door, he turns to you and before you’re let outside, you make sure to give him a big smile.

“Thank you.” You say just before you step outside.

“You’re welcome.” Sounds through the half-open door a moment before it closes, and you suddenly feel the chill of the late-winter wind.

You swear it almost feel worse than usual.

But then the thought of visiting that restaurant pops into your head and suddenly, you don’t feel as cold anymore, something in your chest warming at the thought.

Maybe this date hadn’t been a complete failure.


	26. Surprise time (Grillby/Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not really based all that much on a promt or a request, more me that just got an idea and finally managed to finish it up today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I began this little snippet, maybe a year ago?? about that time I think? 
> 
> Anywho I hope you enjoy!

It's not easy when you find yourself pinned to the door of your apartment. A blazing fire engulfing you and keeping something akin to a hand pressed against your mouth, preventing you from letting out any sort of noise.   
  
"Please..." a cry of a plea escapes the inferno and you catch a tinge of pain in it. "Do not fear. I will not hurt you."  
  
It tries to reassure you, even though it sounds like it is the one hurting.   
  
Giving a small nod, you feel the monster slowly remove its palm from your mouth. Though the moment you take in a shaky breath your legs give in and you slink down the door onto the floor.   
  
"Oh no." The inferno crouches down to your level. While part of the reason for your apparent loss of strength is the fear from suddenly being cornered, it has just been a shitty day in general and this was apparently the last straw for your exhausted body.  
  
A lump of something displeasant was stuck in your throat, and with the next shaky indraw of breath you can feel tears gathering in the corners of you eyes. Piss. Please don't. Not in front of this total stranger that is partly at fault for your distress.   
  
Of course, your body isn't listening to your silent plea, because the next time you try and breathe, a sob escapes you.   
  
The moment the sounds escapes you, you can feel the fire back away a little more. A low crackle resounds in the harsh silence, besides from your badly hidden sobs. You press a hand to your lips to surpress the sound, you hate crying.   
  
"J-j-j-just do w-wh-whatever y-you need to do..." you manage to speak through the lump, each word shaky and hard to squeeze out. "Leave m-m-me al-alone."   
  
This apparent sets something off with the monster, and the next thing you know, the fire is around you once again.   
  
"I'm sorry." You feel a its hand pull you into what might have been a hug. "I will go as soon as possible. But I can't face my assilants like this."   
  
That stunned you a little. Did it not usually look like this? "Y-y-you're being targeted? But why?"   
  
To this it simply just released its hold on you, giving you a full-over look at its shape. Ah. The monster thing. Right.   
  
Though it did look a little better now, most of its flames wasn't as errantic as in the beginning.   
  
"W-what happened to you?" Your voice was also steadily starting to turn normal, the lump dissapating as you focus on yourself shifted over onto the monster.    
  
"Gasoline. Thought that making me like this would cause a scene." Oh.   
  
That's horrible.  
  
"I-I'm sorry-" you try to apologize on behalf of your peers, but it just presses a hand over your lips.   
  
"None of that. Apologies should come from my side in this conversation. It was, after all, me who broke into your apartment. I'm sorry." Withdrawing the hand, you manage to survey the total mass of the monster. It was tall, though you supposed that most of it was the angry flames instead of its real body.   
  
"D-does it hurt?" you ask, your voice still rough and grinding in your throat.  
  
"Probably not in the standard description of it no," it hesitates for a moment and you think its grasping for the right words, "I am- what can you say, not hurt, but the feeling of losing control over my form is very distressing."   
  
"I'm sorry," you whisper out.  
  
You don't really know what to do, they're still towering over your crouched form, but no longer looming, less intimidating and more defeated.   
  
A moment passes, two.   
  
You manage to summon your nerves again.  
  
"Do you want to sit down maybe? I-I don't know what you need to help this but-" you stutter out, shrugging.   
  
"Yes. I'd like that." They say.   
  
Moving to stand up, you find your legs are less-than-reliable and you almost collapse back down again.   
  
You let out a nervous laugh at the situation, but startle slightly when a burning hand is reached down to help you stand. You stare at it for a beat, and then decide to take the chance.   
  
Their hand is warm, not scalding, though the still-errantic flames seem to lick curiously up your arm.   
  
They let go of your hand the moment you manage to stand back up.   
  
You awkwardly motion your hand in the direction of your living-room, making your way there and also managing to mentally give yourself an earful.   
  
This is an unkown monster, one that has broken into your home; you tell yourself. Why the hell are you playing the gracious host?   
  
They were attacked, your other side says, they didn't want to have to break in. You know how bad getting the wrong kind of attention feels.   
  
Sitting down silently on your couch, you drag your legs up to your chest, staring at the momster over your knees.   
  
They take a beat to take the invitation to sit, when they do, you already notice that they seem to be less... infernal.   
  
"Is," you pause, not sure if this is a common thing with somebody being assaulted, "Is there anybody you can contact?"   
  
"Ah, yes I do have a friend nearby, but my phone was damaged when they attacked." They reply.   
  
"Oh," you say, "Do-do you want to borrow mine?"   
  
"Please." and it sounds so desperate, so hopeful, that you know that their calm exterior from earlier was all bravado in the face of an unknown human.   
  
You don't speak, only fishing out your phone to hand it to them. They accept it, also without a word, and fiddle around with it for a moment before it rings.   
  
A beat pass, two. The dial-up tone continues for longer than usual and their shoulders seem to fall forwards as they place their face in their palm with keeping your phone in the other.   
  
They look so defeated.  
  
You shuffle closer over the couch, hesitating for a second, then placing a trembling hand on their arm.  
  
"H-hey," you whisper, not wanting to upset them further.   
  
A moment passes before they react to your touch. Then, they set down your phone on the small dinky table in front of the couch. The movement reveals that they are shaking. Withholding their disappointment and despair over their situation, as not to show it to you.   
  
Ah. You know how that feels.   
  
You regret touching them. They're probably not comfortable with this.   
  
However, as you shift your fingers away from theirs, their free hand reaches up to grasp yours. Keeping you still.   
  
"Please." They say, and while you're already trembling from being grabbed, you don't move.   
  
You don't want any repucussions from doing something wrong.   
  
However, when they then turn to look at you, seeing your fear, they startle and release your hand immediately.   
  
"No, I-" they start out, pausing and then ploughing on.   
  
"My apologies; if you do not wish to touch me. I shouldn't hold you back, I didn't mean to-"   
  
You swallow your nerves and the fear and all the trauma you have for just a moment, chasing their fingers with yours to gently squeeze them.   
  
"D-does it help?" you ask instead. You know this whole situation is weird and scary and all sorts of things that aren't normal.   
  
But they seem so depleted, despairing.   
  
"...Yes."   
  
Well, there goes your courage. You try a pull your hand back, only to have theirs follow. Still intertwined you suppose it's alright as you place your knit fingers in your lap.   
  
"Try, uhm, maybe try and call them again. They might've heard it but not made it."   
  
Instead of speaking, they reach out with their free hand to call again.   
  
It takes a second call, a third and a fourth before whoever the monster is trying to call, finally answers.   
  
You don't catch the words said between the fire-elemental and whoever is on the other side of the phone. Instead, you're staring at the flames playing in between tour fingers. Noticing that they’re starting to calm.   
  
A gaze out the corner of your eye also reveals that the burning inferno next to you is moving in easier patterns. The shape more resembling that of a man.  
  
The call ends and the monster looks much less oil-driven, as if their calmed state of mind has also resulted in them grasping their usual form.   
  
What you see makes you divert your gaze, they look to be clad in a bartender’s outfit, a lighter pair of fiery eyes turning to you as they once again put the phone down.   
  
They stare at you for a beat, as if expecting scorn or displeasure at your situation. When they don't see it, they lean over, resting their head against your shoulder.   
  
"I owe you my life and yet I don't even know your name."

Ah, you belatedly tell them, your voice quiet and uncertain. They respond just by leaning closer.

“I am Grillby. I wish that I could return your help in some matter.”

You try to shakily decline. You’re a hermit all on your own, this was only coincidence. A messy, unfortunate gathering of shitty coincidences.

But when the monster only shifts away from you, looking at you like you’re something _more_ , it dies on your tongue.

After an hour’s wait, Grillby is picked up by a rather extravagant car and it is first then that your fingers untwine.

He calls your name one last time, telling you; “I will make up for this. I promise you.”

And he’s gone.

Leaving a tumult in your house and in your heart.


End file.
